


The Boy Who Lived and the Girl Who Died

by slayerivy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:19:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slayerivy/pseuds/slayerivy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an Alternate Universe story in which Severus Snape and Lily Evans actually do have a romantic relationship.  Of course Severus Snape, being who he is, manages to lose her to James Potter anyway resulting in their marriage and the birth of Harry Potter.  However, imagine that it is James that sacrifices his life for both Lily and Harry.  Harry is still “The Boy Who Lived”, but his mother has survived to raise him.  How differently would Severus Snape treat Harry with Lily still alive?  Would he be able to see just how similar the boy is to his mother?</p><p>This story will attempt to follow canon events, as closely as possible, but for obvious reasons Lily Potter being alive will change quite a few things.  There will also be an original character, which I usually hate, but hey, it’s an AU story.</p><p>There will be very minimal James Potter bashing.  A lot of Lily/Sev stories use that as an element, but Lily loved him and married him, I respect her opinion of the guy (fictionally speaking).</p><p>If you do not like the Lily/Severus pairing, don’t read it.  If you really hate Original Characters, don’t read it.  If you think it sucks, stop reading it and read something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Knowing Me, Knowing You” or “Why Severus Snape Hates ABBA”

Disclaimer:  
This universe belongs to J.K Rowling and I make zero dollars from writing fan fiction. I do, however, profit from the hours of fun in writing it.

The Boy Who Lived and the Girl Who Died

Chapter One: “Knowing Me, Knowing You” or “Why Severus Snape Hates ABBA”

July 29, 1976

He found himself wandering around outside in her neighborhood far too often as of late. He avoided walking directly in front of her house, especially during the daylight hours. He didn’t want Petunia to notice him. She would be sure to tattle on him to Lily or their father. However, on some nights, he just couldn’t help himself. He would sneak into their back garden and sit under the kitchen window and listen to the mundane activities that happened in the Evans’s household. He found it as soothing now as it always had been. Lily’s home was such a stark contrast to his house on Spinner’s End, which was as chaotic and tense as hers was quiet and dull.

Ever since Lily’s mum, Violet, had passed away in an auto accident two years earlier, the Evans girls split the cooking duties during the summer. Lily made a lovely roast chicken, just as Mrs. Evans used to make. His stomach growled just thinking of it. Severus missed Lily’s mum. Severus missed Lily. Sometimes he would think about just lying down there up against the house and simply willing himself to die. How would he live with himself now that she wanted nothing to do with him?

So pathetic, Snivellus.

Severus listened to Petunia and Lily doing the dishes not speaking to one another, but both singing along to the latest bit of bubblegum pop music imported from Sweden. Over and over again they would play that album by ABBA. It was called Arrival and Severus wished that he’d never heard of it. From that ridiculous song, “When I Kissed the Teacher” and the disco hit “Dancing Queen” to the sadly relevant “Knowing Me, Knowing You” he was tortured by these songs that got stuck in your head and stubbornly refused to leave. He preferred The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, Bowie, and The Stones, even Queen, anything but fucking ABBA!

And at that moment they were singing:

No more  
Carefree laughter  
Silence ever after  
Walking through an empty house  
Tears in my eyes  
Here is where the story ends  
This is goodbye

She’d been in tears when he’d had that row with her in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. He’d tried to apologize, but she’d squashed him flat. He was so shocked. He had been shocked at his own behavior by the lake. He was shocked by her reaction to his attempt to make it right. Their last conversation had left him utterly devastated. The only thing he could be thankful for was the fact that his exams were already completed otherwise he might have failed the rest of them. He’d spent the last three weeks composing additional apology letters to her, enough to fill an entire diary, but he never could bring himself to send them. He wasn’t sure she’d even open a letter from him these days.

Knowing me, knowing you  
There is nothing we can do  
Knowing me, knowing you  
We just have to face this time we’re through  
Breaking up is never easy, I know  
But I have to go  
This time I know  
Knowing me, knowing you  
It’s the best I can do

Much to Severus’s dismay, he and Lily had never been a couple. But why did it feel like they had been? Why did he feel like she had been his girlfriend all along and he’d cocked it up so badly that she’d chucked him?

But she hadn’t been. He never got anymore than a chaste peck on the cheek and a healthy squeeze of a hug that usually left him aroused and wanting much more than she’d ever give him.

Severus had always thought that Lily was absolutely the prettiest girl in the entire school. Even at age ten, he could tell that she would only grow to be even more beautiful. And of course he wasn’t blind, he owned a mirror, he knew he wasn’t what any of the girls would popularly consider to be “boyfriend material”. Potter and Black continually reminded him and Lily and the rest of the school of just how unattractive Severus was. And a full three years after Lily had nicely informed him that he just had the hair type that really needed daily washing, Potter was still referring to him as greasy, slimy and oily. Severus would fully acknowledge that he was not a handsome boy, but he wasn’t grubby either! He hated Potter and Black so very, very much.

Severus was able wash daily at school. Washing daily at Spinner’s End wasn’t so easy. Half of the time they had to use his wand to get any water at all. He’d stopped asking his mum where her wand was, because he knew that Tobias found it and broken it, again. Their old pipes continually cracked and leaked and since they had no money for a plumber, his mum could only patch up the leak until the next one happened. He doubted that rich boy James Potter or that the pure blood, ancient and noble house of Black’s rebel son ever had to deal with leaky pipes. No, he was certain that Potter, Black and their gang never had to cut corners or make do with second best. He couldn’t imagine those arrogant prats ever having just enough money for new robes but not having enough left over for new underwear. He’d had that damned pair since second year, for fuck’s sake, he couldn’t get them clean anymore!

Memories  
Good days  
Bad days  
They’ll be  
With me always  
In these old familiar rooms  
Children would play  
Now there’s only emptiness  
Nothing to say 

Being hung upside down while wearing those pants, being tortured and humiliated in front of her had been dreadful. Having her laugh at him too had broken his spirit and his heart. He wished he’d held his tongue. He couldn’t even remember how those words had formed in his mouth. How could he have said that to her? All he could remember was the rage and the anger. He wanted to hurt everyone around him just then. He wished he had a time turner so he could go back and glue his tongue to the roof of his own mouth. Oh, how he wished he could do that. But, it was too far-gone now. Now he was paying the price and having to live with the memory of what he’d said and done. He often wondered if he could obliviate himself. He truly wished he could entirely erase that memory from his brain.

When Agnetha and Anni-Frid began singing about “Money, Money, Money,” Severus decided it was time to go home. Maybe he could find something edible in the pantry; maybe there was still a can of beans and some bread for toast, maybe.

However, when he did get home that night Severus found that beans and toast would definitely not be on the menu for supper. Instead, old Tobias was in rare form. The forty-two year old unsuccessful pub owner was drunk as per usual. Normally, Tobias would stumble home and pass out after his shift at “work.” Work in this context meant that his dad stood behind the bar drinking just as many pints as his patrons and allowed both his patrons and his employees to rob him of any and all profits the pub might actually make.  
On this night, however, Tobias was drunk but not drunk enough. He was awake and angry. Tobias accused Severus of stealing his last packet of fags and had taken a swing at his son’s face.

Severus had gotten rather good at easily stepping away from or dodging his father’s drunken assaults. But tonight, Tobias had pounced on him in the hallway, cornering him. There was nowhere for him to go when his dad’s fist hit him full in the mouth and followed quickly with another blow to the side of his head. It wouldn’t be until three days later when Severus examined the wall in the entry hall that he would even notice the rather large dent his head had made from when Tobias had punched him so hard.

At first, Severus thought that he might have a broken jaw but after a quick inspection he determined that he only had a very bloody split lip and nasty bruise. This was nothing that he hadn’t dealt with before.

While his mum began screeching at Tobias, Severus took that opportunity to dash up to his room to get his phial of Essence of Dittany. His lip was bleeding rather badly and he wanted to heal it, the quicker the better. But alas, the phial was empty. There was only one person nearby whom he knew might have some, otherwise he might have to actually go to a Muggle hospital and get stitches.

In addition to not wanting to be sewn up like a ripped toy, he knew that they asked questions at Muggle Hospitals. They asked things like your name and age and where you lived and who your parents were and how the injury occurred. Muggles could take children away from their parents because of abuse. And as much as Severus would love to see Tobias in jail, he’d never want Eileen to go through the public humiliation of having the Muggles tell her that her household was unfit. And imagine if the Daily Prophet caught wind of something like that. What would his friends in Slytherin think if he got placed “into care” and put into some Muggle group home or given to Muggle foster parents?

Severus bolted out the door holding a now blood soaked kitchen towel to his mouth. He made sure to grab his jacket containing the stolen packet of fags. He’d make a point of smoking every single one of them before returning to his father’s house.

When he arrived at Lily’s house he found several cars parked out in front. As he got closer he could hear voices and music being played. Evidently, they were hosting some sort of party. Severus scanned the driveway, the family car was missing and that usually meant either Petunia or Mr. Evans was out. Lily was still too young to get a driver’s license, but she still might be out of the house. Sometimes Harold Evans had work in London, usually he took the train, but occasionally he took his car. Although he held the position of Professor of Music at the University of Manchester, he was often called upon to perform with various orchestras and smaller musical groups in recording studios. Once upon at time he’d performed with the London Symphony and even played trumpet on a Petula Clark record. Severus had always admired Lily’s dad, he was a decent Muggle bloke who had loads of talent and intelligence and best of all, kindness.

Sadly, that kindness hadn’t been passed down to his eldest daughter. When Severus rang the bell he silently prayed that Petunia wouldn’t answer the door. No such luck.

“Oh, it’s you,” she sneered looking as if she’d found a pile of dog shit on her doorstep. “Your drunk of dad beat you up again, Severus? Lovely.”

Before Severus could respond, Petunia turned away and hollered up the stairs. “Lily! That awful boy is here! Come fetch him before he bleeds all over the carpet!”

Severus suddenly felt he’d made a mistake coming here. He should go, he could go to hospital and lie to them, he could tell the doctor that he got assaulted and robbed in the street.

He looked up the staircase and saw Lily slowly descending in her tight blue jeans and her Bay City Rollers tee shirt. She should’ve known that she should never wear that shirt without a bra. The shirt was too tight and too thin so that her nipples always showed through the fabric. Severus loathed the band, but loved that shirt.

But just then Lily had that look on her face. She was giving him her “prefect face”, the one that said she was extremely disappointed with the current situation, but she considered it her duty to sort it – and quickly.

“Deal with this upstairs,” snapped Petunia. “And don’t let my guests see him. I’m coming just now, Vernon!” she said sweetly as she glided toward the guests in the sitting room.

Lily sighed and motioned for Severus to follow her upstairs.

“I’m really sorry, Lils,” he mumbled hopefully using his nickname for her. “I’m out of Dittany, he got me real good this time.”

“Have a seat,” she ordered pointing him towards the bathroom. “I’ll go get my potion phials out of my school trunk,” she said without looking at him.  
When she returned she had the phial and a dropper and a hard expression. “Let’s have a look, then,” she said.

He turned his face up to look at her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She examined his wound and then wet several cotton balls with water from the tap. “I’m just going to wipe away as much of the blood as possible so I can see the cut properly. It might hurt.”

“S’alright,” he said with a shrug. He knew it would hurt; he almost wanted it to hurt. Better to bleed on the outside than to keep bleeding inwardly over her.

It hurt. He hissed as quietly as he could. She gingerly soaked up and wiped away the excess blood.

“Christ, Sev!” she growled. “Half of your bottom lip is completely split open! What the fuckity fuck was his excuse this time?”

“I stole his fags and didn’t duck quickly enough,” he shrugged again. He couldn’t help but smile inwardly. She’d called him “Sev”. He loved it when she called him Sev, no one else did, he wouldn’t allow anyone else to call him that.

“Why don’t you or your mum ever call the police? He deserves to be locked up.”

“Mum would never do that and anyway, we don’t even have a phone, at least not one that works,” he answered.

“Well, it’s quite a deep cut. I don’t know if the Dittany will work. You might have to get stitches,” she said in a harsh tone. She didn’t look very pleased with him. He supposed she was still very angry with him.

“It’ll work,” said Severus. “I’ve used it on worse than this.”

“Yes, of course, anything to avoid the filthy Muggles touching you,” she muttered.

Severus sighed and was about to apologize again for being an arse to her last month and for inconveniencing her tonight when she firmly grasped his jaw and squirted a few drops of Dittany on the cut. It was like pouring petrol on a flame – a burning pain shot through his mouth.

Tears involuntarily sprang to his eyes and he hissed loudly but didn’t cry out. Severus had learned early in life how to take pain with minimal noise and minimal whinging.  
To his surprise, it was Lily who started to cry.

“There,” she sobbed. “It’s all healed, now you can get out of my filthy Muggle Mudblood house! Make sure you don’t let your Death Eater friends know how low you had to stoop over your summer holiday!”

Severus could feel the anger and the shame rise in his throat. He stood up and spat the excess blood and Dittany into the sink.

“Yes, of course, Lily,” he sneered as he turned on the tap to wash the blood down the plughole. “I must be going. I have to run right home and wash my pants seeing as they are so bloody funny that even you couldn’t keep from sniggering at my expense!”

Severus scooped a handful of tap water into his mouth, rinsed and spat into the sink again. He was so embarrassed and angry that he continued to rant at her.

“Never mind that the same drunken bastard who likes to split my face open seems to take great pleasure in drinking every pound the pub makes in profit so his son has to wear the same damned pants three years running!”

Then as he tried to continue, his voice cracked and a sob escaped his mouth. Just wonderful. Now he was crying and Lily was near full hysterics. Neither of them could seem to do anything but continue to blubber and try to come up with a single coherent thought as to what to do or say next.

Normally Severus hated it when girls wept in his presence. They made him uncomfortable. He could never do or say anything to help his mum stop crying, so whenever he saw a female in tears he exited the general area as quickly as possible. But seeing as he was just as embarrassingly weepy, who was he to judge?

So, he’d hardly known what he was doing when he reached out for her. Her red hair was sticking her tear stained face. He had to brush it off of her cheeks to properly see her. He kissed her possessively twice on her forehead the way a brother or a father might do.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m so ashamed, Lily. When I hurt you, I felt like I had just stabbed myself in the chest.”

He sniffled softly while biting his still sore lip. He was afraid he’d start blubbering even harder and get snot in her hair. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from doing what he did next. He wrapped his arms fully around her and held her as tightly as he could without cutting off her ability to draw breath.

“I shouldn’t have laughed at you. I hurt you, too. I’m so sorry, I hurt you, too,” she sobbed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him just as tightly. Her lips pressed a quivering wet kiss on his cheek and he responded in kind. He kissed her cheek, then her jawline and finally, having forgotten such things as consequences, he planted a firm kiss on her mouth.

Lily made a surprised squeak and Severus immediately let go of her and backed away with a mortified expression on his face. He covered his gaping mouth with the palm of his hand and began to babble out yet another sincere apology.

“Oh, Christ! Oh, Shit! Sorry! Please forget I just did that! Fucking hell!” he blurted.

“What?” she asked. “Am I not good enough for you to snog?” She looked really offended.

“What? No! Oh, my God! No! I-I-I didn’t think you’d…want me to…for me to…” he stuttered back at her.

“You know what, Sev? For a bloke who’s so bloody smart at school, you really are just completely daft sometimes.” Then she kissed him, hard, on the mouth.

 

STORY NOTES:

Obviously all the above quoted lyrics come from ABBA’s song “Knowing Me, Knowing You” from their 1976 Album Arrival. A little shout out to the Yahoo! Group WIKTT – “When I Kissed the Teacher” a Severus Snape/Hermione Granger fan fiction group. I do believe that if Snape were a real person, he’d really hate that particular song or if he did secretly like it, he’d never admit to it.

If you don’t know who The Bay City Rollers are: they were a Scottish pop band and very popular with teens in the UK (and the US) in the 1970’s.


	2. “Severus Snape’s New Pants” or “No Wonder The Bay City Rollers Were Smiling”

The Boy Who Lived and the Girl Who Died

Disclaimer:  
This universe belongs to J.K Rowling and I make zero dollars from writing fan fiction. I do, however, profit from the hours of fun in writing it.

Chapter Two: “Severus Snape’s New Pants” or “No Wonder The Bay City Rollers Were Smiling” 

If someone had told Lily this morning that by bedtime tonight she’d be able to taste what Severus Snape had had for lunch, she would have said they were completely insane. 

She had entirely written Sev off during OWL Exams last term. He was dead to her! He’d done the unforgivable, and yet, here she was forgiving him with her tongue in his mouth and her breasts pressed up against his chest.

James Potter and Sirius Black always called Severus names. He was a greasy git. He was ugly, scrawny and sniveling. He was too skinny, his hair was too oily and his nose was too big. Potter and Black didn’t see Severus at all.

True, if Severus didn’t wash his hair every single day it got very gross, very quickly. And he was thin, but not scrawny anymore, not since he started getting three decent meals per day at Hogwarts. Of course, he usually starved during summer holidays and Lily would always watch in amazement as he gorged himself the first few days of term putting on as much as a full stone in just a couple of weeks. And yes, Severus had a long nose, but it wasn’t ugly, at least not to Lily. In fact, while she was studying the covers of her Beatles albums one day she had noticed that Severus’s nose was remarkably similar to John Lennon’s. Everyone loved John Lennon. No, there was nothing wrong with her best friend’s nose.

He had been her closest friend for the past six years and she’d never thought him to be ugly. His clothes were sometimes ugly, but she remembered how smart he’d looked when they went to Madam Malkin’s for their first set of school robes. He had looked so utterly happy wearing new clothes for probably the first time ever. She stood next to him in front of the mirror and held his hand in hers. “You look great, Sev,” she’d told him. He was beaming and Lily thought that her dear friend was rather adorable when he smiled like that.

When Lily was just a little First Year, she used to picture her future life as a witch and Severus always featured prominently in that future. At first, her daydreams and fantasies were so very innocent. She’d wanted to be a teacher or maybe an Auror so her musings often involved she and Severus pursuing the same course of study together. She never thought about a husband or a family until around the end of Third Year when all her roommates started pining after their list of “cool” boys. These boys were “gorgeous”, “lovely”, “brilliant”, “dead sexy”, etc. At the top of that list was Sirius Black. Lily hadn’t added any names to the list.

She started looking at Severus differently then. She tried to objectively look at him and see all those awful things her housemates saw, but she couldn’t see them. Severus was so smart and talented. He was dedicated to his studies. His essays were always exceptional. He could eviscerate his opponents in any academic debate. He had the facts, he had the arguments, he had the skills and he nearly always had the top marks. She couldn’t help but think that Potter and Black were actually just jealous of Severus because he was so good at schoolwork, that and the fact that he was in Slytherin and not Gryffindor.

Severus was so good at school that it made her that much more motivated to keep up with him. Soon her little fantasies involved her thinking about just how smashing it would be if they could be Head Boy and Head Girl together.

By Fourth Year, Lily finally had to admit to the reality that her journey through puberty had been completed. Unfortunately, the consequences that came with her adolescence could sometimes be distasteful. Absolutely every boy looked at her differently, acted differently and generally made her sick to her stomach with some of the disgusting propositions they would suggest to her.

The only bloke not to treat her any differently was Severus, but that was because he had always had an intense sense of possession where Lily was concerned. Every evening, he insisted on sharing a particular table with her in the library and he also insisted upon privacy – no others, no gossipy girlfriends, and no drooling boys – just the two of them. But he never suggested they date or kiss or that he fancied her for anything other than study, companionship and friendship.

Truth be told, Lily found it rather insulting that James “That Arrogant Toe Rag” Potter spent the better part of Fourth Year asking her to kiss him, date him, sit on his lap (yuck) and Severus never even asked her to so much as hold his hand at the cinema that summer. And to be completely honest, as Lily would only admit to herself at home alone in front of the mirror that yes, she was pretty. She was a pretty girl who should be able to get whatever bloke she liked. So why hadn’t Severus ever asked her out? Even the sincerely handsome and desirable Sirius Black had discreetly asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him behind his best friend’s back. If she ever would consider dating any of that lot, it wouldn’t be anybody but Remus Lupin. At least Remus had a brain and some restraint. But from the boy who had declared himself her best friend years ago, nothing.

But fancied her, didn’t he? He must do! She saw the way he looked at her when he thought she took no notice. Lily absolutely loved the way Severus looked at her. His eyes were intimidating and sometimes frightening to others, but to her they were intense and actually very attractive. And he’d smirk at her when he was being playful. And he gave her genuine smiles, smiles he never gave anyone else. Severus’s black eyes devoured her, worshiped her, and she thought that that was very…sexy. It came as a strange surprise to her as well that she should think of him in that way. But she found herself wanting to know what he might look like without his clothes on or what it might feel like to kiss him. What did his pale white skin taste like? What did an actual boy’s prick look like? What did Severus’s look like? How would it feel to…oh Christ! Lily couldn’t picture doing that with anyone but Severus, because she knew he was just as clueless as she was. They could be each other’s first…maybe each other’s only.

Lily was fairly certain she was in love with her best friend from the dungeons, but even with all his intense staring and annoying possessiveness he didn’t seem to reciprocate. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him? What the bloody hell was she going to have to do? Why wasn’t he interested in her?

Then she started noticing just how much time Severus was spending with the likes of Mulciber and Avery. She heard those repugnant boys talking of Purity and Mudbloods and “You-Know-Who”. Then the worst thought flitted through her mind: “Severus isn’t asking you out because he wouldn’t want a Mudblood for a girlfriend”.

By the time the OWL exams were over he had broken her heart by calling her that name. She had never been so angry with anyone in her entire life. When he had come to apologize to her she had wanted to forgive him, but she couldn’t. He’d cut her too deeply. She knew he liked to talk big with those horrible boys, but she never for one second thought he ever believed any of their shite…until that day by the lake. 

But she hadn’t thought of what Black and Potter had done to him. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she too had laughed at her oldest friend in spite of herself. She knew about Severus’s parents and the fact that they never had enough money. Severus wouldn’t even have been able to go to Hogwarts if Mrs. Snape hadn’t set aside a decent sum of gold in an untouchable Gringotts account when her son was born. After tuition, there was barely enough money for robes and books. Things such as pants and socks were considered extra. Lily had once seen him wearing two pairs of socks because all of his socks had holes in them. From then on she bought him socks every Christmas and every birthday. She never thought to buy him pants. She never saw his pants, and anyway, what friend buys pants as a gift?

Then tonight Severus showed up at her home bloodied again and begging for help. How could she have foreseen him kissing her just then in her bathroom whilst his blood was being washed down the plughole? It wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting, was it? But it was a long time in coming and better late than never, right?

Severus cupped her face and then backed her into the doorframe all the while never breaking their kisses. Over and over they kissed one another’s mouth and explored each other with their hands.

Neither Lily nor Severus were quite sure how they’d made it into Lily’s bedroom and closed the door behind them, but it was made very real when a couple of minutes later Petunia banged on the door.

“Lily! Lily, are you in there?”

Lily blanched. What would Tuney do if she saw her snogging Severus and in her bedroom no less? Severus luckily was still so skinny that he was easily hid on the far side of her wardrobe.

“Yes?” she asked when she answered the door.

“Is that horrid boy gone?”

“Yes,” Lily lied with a roll of her eyes.

“Yes, well, we’re leaving. Vernon and I are going to grab a late meal and then I’m going back to his flat with him. Don’t expect me home tonight or tomorrow and don’t tell Daddy, understand?”

Oh, how disgusting was that? That bloke was just revolting. Hence Lily’s secret nickname for him: “Vile Vernon”.

“Of course not, Tuney. I won’t tell Dad,” she chirped. Petunia seemed smugly happy as she turned and descended the stairs.

She and Severus both watched in a daze as Petunia and all the dinner party guests left in their cars. Lily was really truly all alone with Severus, no big sister, no father and she knew full well that his parents wouldn’t be coming round to collect him tonight.

They had all night and all Lily could think just then was that she wanted to squeeze into her single bed with Severus, get naked and find out just what all the fuss was about.

But she wasn’t sure she was ready for sex, not “all the way sex” anyway. And then there was the fact that she wasn’t quite sure how Severus felt about her. She didn’t think that he’d shag her and chuck her, but she didn’t want to be wrong about that.

Severus took her hand in his and looked at her again with that intense stare. Then his eyes dropped to the floor and he sighed heavily.

“I’m so in love with you, Lily, but if you don’t love me back, I think it would be better if I left now,” he whispered.

Lily’s heart was in her throat. He loved her. He’d said it! This boy she’d known forever – her best friend – loved her! Lily hungrily kissed his mouth and in between her kisses she told him what he most wanted to hear.

“Oh, Sev, I love you.”

Kiss

“I love you, too,” she breathed into his mouth.

Kiss Kiss

Severus was fairly certain that if he jumped out the window just then he’d be able to bloody well fly like Peter fucking Pan – no broom required. The two of them simultaneously tumbled onto her bed and Lily commenced in undressing Severus. She wanted to see him and she desperately wanted to know what his skin would feel like against hers.

She pushed his jacket off his shoulders forcing him to toss it on the floor. She pushed his gray tee shirt up revealing his chest and belly. He eagerly obliged her and forcefully pulled it over his head and then kissed her mouth again. While his tongue played with hers, her fingers began working the button of his Muggle charity shop blue jeans.

“Oh Holy God!” he thought. He couldn’t believe this was happening. It had to be a dream. At any moment, he was going to wake up sweaty, hard and all alone in his dingy little bedroom on Spinner’s End.

As she unzipped his jeans, Lily couldn’t help but notice that Severus was wearing a bright white and obviously brand new pair of underpants. She pulled his elastic waistband making it snap against his thin waist.

“Your parents gave you money for new pants?” she asked.

Severus was incredulous. She was stopping this fucking amazing encounter to question him about his pants! Damn it! 

Severus bit his lip and answered her. “No, I nicked them and please don’t yell at me about it. I will never have dirty pants again. Even if I’m found dead face down in a puddle of blood and shit, my pants will be pure white!” he stated plainly and then laughed.

Just then Lily smirked at him and pulled her own tee shirt up over her head revealing that she indeed was not wearing a bra underneath the Bay City Rollers’ smiling faces. Severus was in danger of poking right through those brand new pants; they felt like they were strangling his privates. He suddenly felt very scared. What if his dick wasn’t big enough? What if he came the second she touched it? Worse - what if she thought he was revolting and didn’t want to touch it at all? And how the hell was he supposed to touch her? He’d seen porn, he’d seen pictures, but he hadn’t a clue what to do with a real girl – and his Lily was really there – he couldn’t fuck this up, not now.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he blurted.

“Neither do I,” she said.

Lily was exquisite just then sitting on top of him naked from the waist up.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

“Yes, please do,” she smiled down at him.

He let his fingertips trace the contours of her neck, shoulders and clavicle before touching her breasts.

And yes, her breasts were absolutely everything he’d thought they would be! He kissed her mouth again, then her neck, and then went directly to her nipples. He had to kiss them, lick them and suck them into hard peaks. They were pink and lovely and she arched into him and gasped encouragingly. 

Lily felt Severus’s erection thrust against her leg as he licked and sucked at her breasts. She felt that sensation low in her belly and she just wanted him to touch her there as well. She was going to let him touch her anywhere and everywhere he wanted to.

 

 

 

 

Story Notes:  
Weight Measurement – 1 British Stone = 14 Pounds


	3. “Eileen Snape Gives a Nervous Lecture About Magical Contraception” or “Why No One at Hogwarts Knew Severus Snape Loved Lily Evans”

The Boy Who Lived and the Girl Who Died

Disclaimer:  
This universe belongs to J.K Rowling and I make zero dollars from writing fan fiction. I do, however, profit from the hours of fun in writing it.

Chapter Three: “Eileen Snape Gives a Nervous Lecture About Magical Contraception” or “Why No One at Hogwarts Knew Severus Snape Loved Lily Evans”

Severus sauntered down the road heading towards Spinner’s End and he felt like a bad cliché. He had become one of those disgustingly cheerful people whose mouths he usually wanted to hex shut. Oh, the sun was shining, the early morning birds were chirping and the dustmen were out collecting the trash. And Severus Snape was smiling and smoking a fag and feeling fan-fucking-tastic!

He’d just spent the better part of the last forty-eight hours in bed with the most beautiful girl in all of both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds as far as he was concerned. He’d loved her for ages and ages and now his dreams had finally come true. And it was all so wonderful! And she didn’t want him to go, but Mr. Evans was coming home from London and that meant Petunia would be home as well so she could pretend that she hadn’t been out shagging her fat and foul boyfriend.

When she’d kissed him goodbye by the back door she’d been wearing only her dressing gown. She gave him a bone crushing hug and a desperate kiss goodbye. “I love you, Sev. You are coming tonight for dinner, aren’t you? Dad would love to see you.”

“Petunia will hate it,” he smirked at her.

“Don’t care. Dad’s been complaining about me moping about the house since I got home from school. He’ll be so pleased to see me smiling again.”

“Better not tell him why you’re smiling so much,” he said.

“Better not, it’d give him a heart attack,” she giggled.

Severus kissed her again. “I love you, Lils. What time for supper?”

“Seven-thirty, sharp.”

“I’ll be here,” he replied as he walked away.

“Don’t be late!” she’d called after him.

Severus stopped at the playground they often frequented and sat on the swings while he finished the last fag from the packet he’d stolen from his father.

“She loves me!” he shouted into the empty air and began to swing back and forth like he never had when he was a little boy. This was where he’d met her. This place would be for him – now and forever after – sacred ground – always.

When Severus finally opened the door to their shabby house, his fantastic mood promptly began to evaporate. There were old blood droplets still on the floorboards and what looked like a small puddle of sick near the staircase. The blood was definitely from his mouth the other night and the vomit was probably from his dad last night. 

Out of morbid curiosity he took a look at the massive dent in the wall his head had made when his father had punched him. Severus marveled at the size of it - not quite believing that his skull could make such a big hole. Because he was at home with his mum he was pretty much allowed to do magic only while in the house and under her supervision. He knew that the instant he got settled back in his bed Eileen Snape would be knocking and asking to borrow his wand for the repair. 

“Reparo,” he whispered and watched as the damage instantly mended itself. “Scourgify,” he whispered at the nasty puddle of vomit and it vanished.

He found his mum puttering about their small kitchen preparing tea and toast for breakfast. “Morning, Mum.”

“Oh, Severus! Where have you been?” she whisper-shouted at him. He knew she was whispering as not to disturb his father’s hangover. “We have been worried sick about you!”

“You mean you have been worried sick,” he sniggered at her. “I’ve been at the Evans’s. Lily patched my lip and then wouldn’t let me come home. She reckoned we ought to have called the police on him this time.”

“Merlin’s Beard! Oh, my God! I am utterly mortified! What did Harold say? Did he say he would call the Muggle authorities?” Eileen looked positively pale with worry and embarrassment. 

“N-no, no, not at all,” Severus stuttered and tried his best not to look suspicious.

Eileen gave her son a cross look whilst trying to catch his eye. “Harold was there, wasn’t he?” she asked.

Severus learned long ago that if his mum looked him in the eye while he said an untruth that she could always tell if he was being dishonest with her.

“Severus?” she asked. Her tone was growing rather severe.

“He had a recording job in London,” he shrugged.

“And her sister?”

“At her boyfriend’s flat,” he smirked.

“Oh, Severus!” she hissed. She plopped in her chair and began wringing her tea towel in her hands. “Please tell me you used a contraceptive potion! Neither of you are of age! I knew this would happen! You have no restraint when it comes to that girl!”

“What do you mean by that girl?” he growled.

“Oh, stop it! You know I think the world of Lily, I just wish you waited until you were done with school, at least,” she said while pouring her son a cup of weak tea.

Severus shrugged again. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to be having this conversation with his mother. He’d been safe with Lily; they used the potion brewed to prevent a witch from getting pregnant. It was better than the Muggle ‘pill’, the witch only ever had to take it within twenty-four hours of intercourse. That meant she could take it before or after she had a shag – very convenient.

“You know, in my day,” his mother began. Severus sipped his tea and settled in for whatever lecture Eileen was about deliver. He hadn’t been home in two days, the fact she wasn’t screeching at him or that Tobias wasn’t smacking him were good enough reasons for him to keep his mouth shut and let her talk.

“When a young witch and wizard wanted to ‘make a match’ the wizard’s family would contract an engagement for the couple. Then that way it was completely normal and natural for them to be at it like rabbits,” she snickered.

“And, it didn’t ever matter, if a witch got sprogged up, she was almost expected to. Did you know only a quarter of my female classmates made it up to NEWT level? They all had to leave to have their babies. One witch, Amalia Baggeritch, refused to leave! She waddled through that last term like an overweight penguin and she would have made it too if her waters hadn’t broken in the middle of her last NEWT exam. Poor girl! They couldn’t even get her up to the infirmary in time. Her son was born in Charms corridor. And the big joke was that he was conceived in the Charms corridor as well! But that was before ‘the potion’ was invented and things are so different now.”

Severus couldn’t help but laugh. “It is so different now, Mum. I can’t imagine any of the witches at school being pregnant. Well, a few of the older pure blood girls didn’t return after their Fifth Year OWL exams because they were getting married. One girl, Sadie Scrimgeour, got married the summer after her Fifth Year to some bloke from one of those ‘old fashioned’ Wizarding families. She is only eighteen, has two sons and is already pregnant again. Her husband is forty years older than she is! I mean that’s no better than being a pedophile, is it?”

“So, so disgusting! How old is he? 58? He’s too old even for me! I reckon she’s not his first wife either. He’s probably some rich old widower looking to start over with a nice young wife.”

“Mum, don’t worry about anything, all right? Everything is fine. I’m having supper over there tonight with Mr. Evans and Petunia. Then Lily and I are going to the cinema.”

“You know, you never did answer my question, young man. Did you use a potion?” she asked.

Severus looked at the floor and turned pink with embarrassment. “Yes, Ma’am, we did,” he replied and then he turned and rushed up the creaky stairs.

“Shhh!” his mother hissed. “Don’t wake him!”

Severus wasted no time and flopped down on his unmade bed. He really wanted to sleep but he couldn’t. His brain continued to replay over and over again nearly every moment of the last couple of days in Lily’s bed. Across town, Lily Evans was doing the same thing.

 

***

 

The two teenagers had left their jeans and pants crumpled in a pile next to Lily’s single bed. She’d had this bed since she was seven years old; it was white with pink lilies stenciled onto the headboard. Her mum had painted those flowers just for her. Tuney had one just like it, with pink petunias on hers, of course. Petunia wouldn’t dare do this on her little bed with Vile Vernon…they’d break it in two for certain.

Severus felt embarrassed and shy. He’d never been so naked in front of anyone since he was a toddler and to be fair he barely remembered being that innocent. And this was far more important than splashing in the bathtub when he was three years old.

Lily’s face too was flushed pink. She looked at Severus naked on her bed, pale white skin, black hair, and black eyes devouring her. His skin felt smooth under her fingers as she touched his chest and then laid herself on top of him. It felt heavenly! Like melting into one another…chest-to-chest and mouth-to-mouth.

He kissed her mouth and she felt him hard against her belly, thrusting. He couldn’t help it, she was naked against his cock and this was better than any wank he’d ever had! The tip of his hard cock was dripping wet and with every thrust of his hips it slipped against her smooth abdomen driving him closer and closer to an inevitable conclusion.

“Oh my God, Lils,” he panted. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to come.”

“So? Come then,” she encouraged him. She kissed him harder and thrust back against him. She wanted him to come; she wanted to make him come. Then she wanted him to make her come. Then he held her tighter and buried his face in her shoulder. He stiffened underneath her and cried out while she felt the warmth of his semen on her belly. 

Severus was instantly embarrassed. He’d made a sticky mess all over her stomach and he knew she couldn’t possibly have enjoyed it.

But Lily kissed his mouth again with even more hunger. She only stopped for a few moments to pass him some tissues so they could wipe up the mess they’d made.

Then it was Lily’s turn to be on her back and Severus scared out of his mind as to what he was to do. He wanted her to enjoy this, but he really wasn’t sure what to do. So he kissed her again and begged her. “Show me, show me what to do. I want to make you...”

Lily took his hand and guided it between her legs. She showed him where to touch her, how to touch her. She knew how to make herself orgasm and for some reason showing him how she did it made her more excited. She was so slick and wet that his fingers slid in and out of her so easily. This was beyond all her wildest imaginings. Certainly it felt good when she touched herself and made herself have an orgasm, but having him touch her there was so much more arousing. And his fingers were longer and larger and he could reach places inside her that she didn’t even know she had! And when Severus kissed her mouth while his thumb firmly rubbed her clit, she had the most intense orgasm of her life! So far – sex was brilliant!

“Oh my God, Sev!” she hissed. 

“Did I do that all right? Did you just…?” he stammered.

“Oh my God, Sev!” she giggled. “Yes!”

“I love you, so much, you know that?” he said looking at her with such seriousness.

She cupped his earnest cheeks in her hands. “Yes, I love you, too,” she replied.

She kissed his mouth again and again. And her hands drifted between his legs. She learned his cock with her fingertips and her palm. She stroked him and he returned the favor by petting her sex. It didn’t seem possible, but she was even wetter and slicker. His hardness grew in her hand and she pulled him toward her. Without a word she’d maneuvered herself underneath him. And she tugged his cock toward her body.

“Sev,” she moaned.

“Lily?” he asked. Was she trying to do what he thought she was trying to do?

“I want to do this with you,” she whispered.

She spread her legs wider and dragged the tip of his cock across the wetness of her swollen sex. Yes, she wanted to do this with him.

The pain that so many women complain about having their first time was not there for Lily. She, like most witches, had lost her hymen at the tender age of eleven, during her first flying lesson. The jarring jerking around while learning to ride a broom more often than not broke that delicate membrane, also, the use of her Muggle tampons made certain that that barrier was long gone. The only thing close to pain that she felt was when his cock bumped up hard against her cervix after he had penetrated her deeply for the first time.

Severus sighed when he felt the warmth of Lily envelope him. She was so warm and so tight and so wet! He’d heard the phrase “finding heaven between her thighs” once. And now he understood. He grabbed the headboard just to steady himself.

“Is this okay?” he asked. Again, he was completely afraid of doing it wrong.

She looked up at him and smiled. “You’re inside me. Oh, God! I love you inside me,” she moaned and rocked her hips up to meet his.

“Lils, unnnngh…I don’t know how long this is going to last,” he apologized. 

“Don’t care, practice makes perfect, practice with me,” she said. And she continued to speak to him softly. She encouraged his thrusts and met them with her own.

Years later, Severus would muse to himself that lasting an entire five minutes inside Lily for his very first go at actual intercourse was impressive. And it didn’t take very long that summer for Lily and Severus to perfect their practice.

Lily would very often meet Severus around town for dates. They spent time at the library, the museums, in their park and at the cinema. And on those days when Harold was away or when Eileen and Tobias shared a shift at the pub, they were in one another’s beds “practicing”. 

Lily hadn’t known she could love Severus anymore than she already did. But the sense of wholeness that she felt whenever she was with him now was both overwhelming and comforting. They spent the remainder of that summer in between each other’s legs so much so that Severus had to knick money from his mum to buy more ingredients to brew the contraceptive potion. Lucky for them that he was such a good potions student otherwise they’d have had to pay three times as much for the potion or have had to rely on Muggle condoms.

They spent hours discussing their future and the upcoming school year, which unfortunately lead them to talk of Severus’s Slytherin housemates.

“I don’t give a shit what they fucking think, Lily!” Severus had shouted one evening while sitting on the very swing set he’d first laid eyes on her.

“I don’t either, Severus! But I do fucking care what they bloody well did to Michael Macaffee! He nearly died, Sev!”

Her anger quickly melted into tears. “They carved the words ‘blood traitor’ into his chest. They beat him, he nearly bled to death,” she sobbed.

Severus had to hold her and comfort her to get her tears to stop. He reassured her that those students who’d done that to their own housemate had graduated. They wouldn’t be there next term. But Severus felt a flicker of worry. Mulciber had been in on that one and Avery was happy to encourage that type of behavior. The only thing Macaffee had done wrong was fall in love with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff girl. At first, it wasn’t so bad, they were just taking the piss out of him, but it kept getting worse until one night they went too far. Severus hadn’t witnessed the attack but he had heard that Professor Slughorn had found the boy dragging himself out of the dormitory covered in blood. Macaffee never returned to Hogwarts and his Hufflepuff girlfriend withdrew a few weeks later because the threats and bullying wouldn’t stop.

Lily decided that it would be best if they kept their relationship completely private. “They don’t need to know!” she had whispered frantically to him. “We’ll see each other secretly, just so the Slytherins don’t know. And I’m not too keen on Black and his boyfriend knowing who my boyfriend is in any case.”

“You can tell them you fell in love with a gorgeous Muggle boy back home,” Severus joked as he flipped his black hair around like a preening girl. “Oh, my Goodness Lily! They’ll all be so jealous!”

“You are too good at that,” she laughed at him.

“That’s so very true, I’m such a bloody girl, right? Aren’t I? Especially when I’ve got your legs round me, eh?” he murmured to her.

“Think your mum’s gone to the pub yet?” she asked before leaning in to place a wet kiss on his pale neck.

“Don’t see why we can’t start heading that way now, we’ll take our time getting there.” Severus had never been so happy in his whole life. If knew then what was to happen to them he would have cherished these moments even more than he already did.

Many years from this moment, there would be an offensive shouting match involving phrases like: “There is no way you were shagging Snivellus back at school! No bloody way! James watched you like a Hippogriff drooling over fresh meat! How is it we never saw you with him, ever?”

And although there would be a lot pain and sadness in between this moment and now, Severus Snape would always have the smug satisfaction in the knowledge that once upon a time Lily Evans preferred him above all others.


	4. “When Harry Met Severus” or “How Neville Takes His Tea”

The Boy Who Lived & The Girl Who Died

Year One – 1991

“When Harry Met Severus” or “How Neville Takes His Tea”

 

Harry Potter was so glad to be leaving for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in two weeks. He disliked living so close to his pig-like cousin, Dudley and his horrid parents, Auntie Petunia and Uncle Vernon Dursley. Mum didn’t like them much either but she and Harry lived just across the way from them at Number 13 Privet Drive.

Aunt Petunia wouldn’t allow her Diddykins to come over to their house because Auntie Lily and Cousin Harry were bad luck at Number 13. She often said that the Potters had so much bad luck that it had caused Harry’s father, James, to be killed in a car crash when Harry was only a year old. At least that was what Petunia told her son and all the neighbors.

Harry, however, knew that was completely untrue, his mum had told him what really had happened to his father. An evil dark wizard who’d tried to kill their entire family had murdered James Potter. But as Lily had attempted to save Harry from being hit by his killing curse, this dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, had cast the curse on Harry as he clung to his mother. Inexplicably, the curse had backfired and blew the roof off of their house and Voldemort along with it. Harry was left with his mother in the wreckage, scarred but very much alive.

Lily had decided very early on to raise Harry away from the Wizarding world in order to avoid any unhealthy influences on his personality by being considered a hero by every witch and wizard in England.

So he grew up knowing his mother was a witch and everyone else who lived around them were non-magical people called Muggles and that some day he would be able to go to Hogwarts and become the wizard he was meant to be. However until then, he had to endure the bullying of his enormous cousin and his equally awful gang of friends at school. He used to complain daily to his mum about how he wished they’d stayed at their old flat in London instead of moving there to Surrey nearly four years ago. He had liked it there, where he had friends and he only ever had to see the Dursleys occasionally around the holidays. Lily was always able to make him feel better. She told him stories about his father and Hogwarts and all the amazing things he’d be learning.

“It will be so much more fun for you than your regular Muggle school. You’ll have a better time with the other wizards and witches like yourself.”

Harry loved his mother very much, probably more than most boys his age. She was different. She was ‘cool,’ but strict and she was the prettiest of any of the mothers at his school. It was a constant struggle for her to avoid any and all of the single dads who wanted to take her out. Although Harry liked that his mother was so well sought after, he was most glad that she never accepted their invitations.

“It’s not safe for me to date a Muggle. What if we were attacked, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against magic that he wouldn’t even know exists,” she’d said once.

That year, on Harry’s eleventh birthday, a towering man by the name of Rubeus Hagrid had come to their house to personally deliver Harry’s Hogwarts letter of acceptance.

He was so very delighted to see both Lily and Harry that he wept joyous tears. “We’ve missed yeh so much, both of yeh.”

It seemed to Harry that Mr. Hagrid was terribly familiar but he couldn’t place where or when he’d met the man before. Harry found it odd that he could have forgotten someone so very, very gigantic. Hagrid was there to accompany Harry and Lily to Diagon Alley. That was a place his mother visited every now and then when she needed to do some banking or shopping for magical items. She would on those occasions leave Harry with Mrs. Figg who lived in their neighborhood with her many, many cats.

Harry was so happy to finally get to see this “magical” place he’d heard so much about. But what he hadn’t been expecting was that everyone there seemed to recognize him. They’d come up and shake his hand talking of how honored they were to meet him. He even had the good fortune to meet one of his new teachers – a shy and stuttering wizard by the name of Quirrell.

“Mum, why do they keep doing that? I didn’t do anything except not die. I was just a baby, I don’t even remember,” complained Harry as he wiped old Mrs. Hoppot’s lipstick off his cheek.

“Just try to be polite about it, dearest. I’ll do my best to keep them at a distance for you. It is annoying! Just going up and touching someone else’s child like that,” said Lily.

“I’ll warn ‘em off for yeh, Harry. They’ll not bother yeh if they know what’s good fer ‘em.” Hagrid added.

The rest of the trip went very well, Harry saw all manner of amazing things. He bought his spell books, his wand, which his mother didn’t seem so pleased with after Mr. Ollivander told them about its core phoenix feather. When it came time to buy his cauldron, scales and dragon skin gloves his mum pulled out a note from her pocket. Harry could see in tiny cramped writing that someone had put down extensive instructions on which cauldron to choose, which thickness was best and only the costliest scales and gloves would do. Then there were the potions ingredients, even though the list included only the basics they had to be of the best quality. Each item had to be thoroughly inspected before purchase much to the dismay of the sales clerk.

“Who is that note from, Mum?” asked Harry trying to read it over her shoulder.

“Oh, just a friend who’s a potions maker by trade and who knows what’s best and apparently most expensive,” she replied in a rather annoyed tone.

“What friend?” Harry couldn’t remember his mum ever really talking about any of her Wizarding friends although he knew she got letters by owl post on a regular basis. She never opened any of those letters in front of Harry and sometimes they were large envelopes and parcels. Lily would never talk about what they were or whom they were from.

Before Lily could answer Harry’s question Hagrid interrupted by showing Harry two different pairs of dragon skin gloves and asked Harry to pick which color he liked best. Harry picked the green ones and then it was time to go get him fitted for his robes at a shop called Madam Malkin’s. Lily and Hagrid left Harry in the shop to be fitted while they went to pick out an owl for Harry to use at school.

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,” said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

“Have you got your own broom?” the boy went on.

“No. I used to have a toy broom ages ago, but my mum says I’m too young yet for a proper broom,” said Harry.

“So, you don’t play Quidditch at all, then?” the boy drawled.

“No,” said Harry again feeling a bit red in the face about not having ever played the popular Wizard’s sport. He wanted to brag that he’d made his Muggle school’s football team, but he doubted this young wizard would understand what he was talking about.

“I do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“No, wherever the Sorting Hat puts me, I expect,” replied Harry.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm,” said Harry suspecting that this was one of those times when saying nothing at all was the best course of action as his mother had always warned him. ‘Remember, Harry, if you can’t say something nice…’ Harry reckoned this boy’s mum and dad had never said that to him even once.

“I say, look at that man!” said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn’t come in. Hagrid had made mention of ice cream earlier, perhaps his mum was still at the familiars’ shop.

“That’s Hagrid,” said Harry, “He works at Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” said the boy, “I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?”

“He’s the gamekeeper,” said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s sort of savage – lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“I think he’s brilliant,” said Harry coldly.

“Do you?” said the boy, with a slight sneer. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“My Mum’s picking out an owl for me and my Dad is dead. Hagrid’s a friend of the family come shopping today,” Harry said as quickly as possible not wanting to go into details with this dreadful boy.

“Oh, sorry about your father,” said the boy, not sounding very sorry at all. “But both your parents are our kind, aren’t they?”

“My Mum’s a witch and my Dad was a wizard if that’s what you mean.”

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same; they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old Wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, “That’s you done, my dear,” and Harry not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” said the drawling boy.

Lily met up with Harry and Hagrid as they ate their ice creams on a bench across the street from Gringotts. She presented him with a lovely snowy white owl name Hedwig. Harry loved her immediately and thought she was a hundred times better than their ridiculous cat, Monty, who wasn’t magical at all.

Harry told his mother about the pale boy and his obvious distaste for Muggle-born witches and wizards. Harry found it especially insulting seeing as his own mother had been Muggle-born herself. 

Lily gave her boy a hug and reassured him, “Don’t listen to those idiots, they don’t know what they’re talking about. There’s nothing wrong with being Muggleborn, it doesn’t change how well anybody can do magic. Anyway, there are loads of Muggleborns and half-bloods at Hogwarts, you’ll see.”

The night before Lily was to drop off Harry at Platform 9 ¾ to catch the Hogwarts Express she called out for Harry’s favorite take-away, Chinese with loads of noodles and his most favorite sesame chicken. They sat in the living room in front of the television eating directly out of the cartons, which was something his mother rarely allowed. The only other time he was ever allowed to eat a meal and watch the telly was when he was ill.

Harry continued to bombard his mother with questions, now specifically about the Headmaster of the school Albus Dumbledore and the other teachers by whom he would be taught.

Lily was chewing a large mouthful of lo mein noodles and ticking off her mental list of Hogwarts staff. “Well, there’s Professor Binns, he teaches History of Magic and he’s very boring, oh and he’s a ghost.”

“A GHOST?” Harry exclaimed.

“Yes, but he’s not scary, just boring like I said.”

“But, he’s dead, right?” asked Harry.

“Yes, but he apparently didn’t want to give up his teaching position,” Lily laughed.

Lily went on about Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick and the subjects they taught. However, she couldn’t tell Harry anything about Quirrell or the professors who were teaching Potions or Astronomy. The professors who had taught Lily those subjects had long been retired. Still after all this information, Harry seemed nervous about going to school.

“Don’t you worry about any of this, Harry, you’ll do just fine,” she said to reassure her son.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because you’re my boy,” she said with a smile.

“Do you think Dad would be proud of me?” 

“I know he is,” answered Lily as she pulled her little boy in for a hug.

 

After some tears from his mother at Platform 9 ¾ Harry made his way onto the Hogwarts Express. He made it all the way through the sorting, thanking God that the Sorting Hat spared him being sorted into Slytherin (imagine what Mum would have thought). He sat at the Gryffindor table with his new friends and acquaintances: Ron Weasley and three of his brothers, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. 

Harry looked up at the High Table again and noticed Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head.

“What is it?” asked Percy.

“N-nothing.”

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher’s look – it was a look of disappointment, but Harry couldn’t imagine what he might have done to warrant such a look.

“Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy.

“Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s after Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.”

“Actually, he’s equally skilled in both subjects,” came a little disembodied voice.

Percy turned around and in doing so revealed a young girl, the only child in the Great Hall not wearing a Hogwarts student’s robe. She was clad in an old- fashioned looking black taffeta dress with a purple sash around her waist. She looked like a pretty little version of the Potions master. She had long black hair, large black eyes and porcelain white skin, but she was lovely instead of slightly scary like her father. 

“He teaches Potions because they would have an extremely difficult time finding as skilled a Potions Master as my father to get students prepared for the OWLS & NEWTS. No other professor can boast such high test results,” she continued sounding as confident in herself as Hermione had been in quoting Hogwarts: A History.

“Harry, this is Morgana, she’s Professor Snape’s daughter. Why does he look so put out this evening, Morgana?” Percy asked her with a knowing smirk.

“Why do you think? Slytherin didn’t get Harry Potter. Certainly the odds were always in Gryfinndor’s favor, but there was a chance. Such a pity,” she said while looking wistfully at Harry.

“Anywhere Malfoy isn’t, seemed like a better place to be,” answered Harry.

“Oh! You know Draco already? He’s a mean little boy. Never shares his toys,” she said as she turned her head to glare in Malfoy’s general direction.

Harry was glad to see another person had the same impression of Malfoy as he did. 

Percy chuckled. “Would you like to join us for dessert, Morgana?”

“Yes, thank you, Percy. Congratulations on making Prefect, by the way. Just like your brother, Bill. How is he these days?” she asked with an enormous smile as she squeezed in between Percy and one of the Weasley twins (Harry wasn’t sure if it was Fred or George).

“He’s fine. He’s working at Gringotts training as a Curse Breaker,” said Percy.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” she asked.

All the Weasley brothers burst out laughing. And so did Morgana. 

Harry was unsure as to what was so very funny.

“Little Morgana here simply loves our eldest brother. He used to have to baby-sit her once in a while when he was prefect,” one of the twins explained.

“And when he was Head Boy. Oh, I do so miss Bill! He was so lovely. The rest of you Weasley lot can be so tedious. Which one are you by the way?” she nodded in Ron’s direction.

“Oh! I’m Ronald, Ron for short,” said Ron looking amazed that anyone was even slightly interested in whom he was.

“Anymore of you at home, ‘Ron for short’?”

“Just our sister, Ginny, she’ll be starting Hogwarts next year,” said Ron with his mouthful of treacle.

“Brilliant!” she shouted. Both Neville and Ron jumped at her exclamation. “Me too! I start next year! And a girl Weasley is coming! I didn’t know your parents made girls! I cannot wait to meet her!”

“Oh no! That means you won’t be in our Potions lessons next year? Who is going to make sure we don’t melt our cauldrons?” asked one of the twins.  
“Come now, Fred! You’re both fine Potions students. You just need not do any daring experiments during class time. That’s where you run into trouble and melted cauldrons,” she laughed.

“I’m George, he’s Fred,” replied the twin.

“Keep telling lies and your nose will grow, Fred!” said Morgana as she swiped a strawberry from Fred’s plate.

“So, Harry, have you read the first three chapters in your Potions text book yet?” asked Morgana.

“N-no, not yet,” stammered Harry.

“You’d better get to it then or Friday will be rather unpleasant for you,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh no! Why? Is there going to be a quiz?” Hermione interjected into their conversation.

“No, no tests on the first day. However, my father expects all his students to be well prepared for his class, especially you,” she pointed at Harry.

Harry felt slightly sick just then. He’d better get reading. “But why does he expect so much of me?”

“Your mother made all O’s on her Potions exams, she must have taught you something,” she said.

“All O’s? She never told me she got all O’s! Hey, how do you know what her results were?”

“Morgana, it’s time for bed,” said a man’s voice that made Harry feel equal parts fear and familiarity. 

“Da, look! It’s Harry Potter! And a new Weasley boy and next year there’ll be a Weasley girl! And she’ll be in my year!”

“Yes, all very thrilling, Morgana,” said Professor Snape obviously not interested in his daughter’s enthusiastic statements. “Come along, it’s time for bed for you.”

“Daaa! This is Harry Potter! You know his mum,” said Morgana.

Harry stood up and looked up at the tall thin man clad all in black as he loomed over him. Harry smiled politely and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Professor,” he said more meekly than he’d intended.

Snape took his hand and gave him a firm quick shake. “So you know my mum?”

“Yes, do give her my regards when you see her next. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter,” said Snape with an uncomfortable smile, like he didn’t quite know what to say to Harry.

“Come with me, Morgana, let’s get you settled. Good night, Gryffindors. I look forward to seeing you all in the Dungeons,” he said as he began to walk away, but he stopped and gave a hard stare to Fred and George.

“Oh, and Messieurs Weasley, fifty points off for each and every cauldron you melt this year. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said giving them a wicked smirk.

“Challenge accepted, sir!” the twins said in unison.

Harry watched the Potions Master take his daughter by the hand and lead her away. It was then he saw the man’s expression change into a genuine smile toward his little girl. Harry felt he should know that man from somewhere but he couldn’t place him; it was much the same feeling he’d had about Hagrid. It was like seeing a new movie with an actor that you know you’ve seen before but you can’t remember which movie they’d been in. He must have met him when he was very little. That had to be it. Maybe his mother introduced them years ago and he couldn’t remember when.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape was disappointed in Harry. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he had been absolutely right and that he was the biggest dunderhead in the class, well, besides Neville.

Apparently, Professor Snape did teach all of his classes with his daughter present. She sat at a small desk in a corner behind her father’s desk. She was dressed all in black. Black turtleneck, black cardigan, black pleated skirt, black woolen socks, black patent leather shoes – the only thing on her that was not black was her purple headband. She smiled at the first year students and eagerly watched as her father took roll call.

When he was finished he gestured toward his daughter. “And this is my daughter, Morgana. She will be present during your lessons while she works on her own studies. She has been attending my classes since she was able to sit still in her seat. She knows more about Potions than all of my Seventh Year students combined. Using her as a crutch during class, trying to bribe her into doing your essays or getting answers to upcoming exams is strictly forbidden and will result in a failing grade.”

Harry could tell that Professor Snape was exceedingly proud of his daughter. He looked toward her with a smug and satisfied pride. Harry supposed that it was mostly academic pride but he couldn’t help but think Morgana’s looks also had something to do with it. The Potions Master was rather plain in comparison to his child. 

Ron had put it best at lunch earlier that day. “She must take after her mum. But how’d he get a leg over some woman pretty enough to produce her?”

Fred and George had snickered. “We think she never had a mum…ole Snape just conjured her up out of his cauldron,” Fred had said while making the rude and universally understood gesture for male masturbation.

Morgana gave Harry a small wave and beamed a smile in his direction. She had told him to read his Potions textbook but he had only skimmed it. It was so boring! So when Professor Snape started questioning him in front of everyone he could barely remember a thing. 

“Potter!” Snape had said suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry was stumped. He knew he should know the answer but he couldn’t remember. He looked up at Snape’s expectant gaze and saw the man look crestfallen when Harry replied, “I don’t know, sir.”

Snape let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s try again. Harry, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry couldn’t remember exactly where he could find a bezoar. He remembered it was somewhere disgusting, for certain, but then with all the pickled animals floating in jars all over this room an awful lot of potions ingredients were from nasty, slimy places.

Harry tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Potter, you’ve neglected your reading,” he said quietly as he stood up. “I expect all of you to come to my class prepared.”

Harry felt horrible, he hadn’t read closely enough, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. Snape gave the girl a scathing glance. “Is your name, Potter? Sit down, Miss Granger!”

“Um…aren’t they the same as aconite, sir?” said Harry hoping he was right.

“Yes! Finally, Potter!” he said looking relieved. “But one out of three will not do. Will not do at all. For your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. And as you answered correctly, wolfsbane and monkshood are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Then Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Mr. Longbottom!” snapped Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off of the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

“Morgana!” Snape said loudly and snapped his fingers at his daughter. “Take Longbottom up to the hospital wing. Mr. Finnigan, you can work with Potter and Weasley for the remainder of the class. And two points from Gryffindor, one for each of you, Finnigan and Longbottom for not following directions.”

Morgana tugged on Neville’s sleeve. “Is this your bag?” she asked him.

“What?” asked Neville as he winced at her touch.

“Your bag? This one here is your bag, yes?” asked Morgana again.

“Um, yeah,” Neville replied as he reached out to take it from her.

“No, I’ll carry it for you,” said the little girl as she rushed out of the classroom. “Follow me,” she called back to him.

Neville ran out after her and Professor Snape shook his head and mumbled to himself. “Every year, dunderheads, every bloody year…”

“Pay attention to your work, people! And no more accidents!” Professor Snape barked at his students. Harry, Ron and Seamus kept their heads down for the remaining hour of class and concentrated on not melting their cauldron.

Neville Longbottom huffed and puffed trying to keep up with little Morgana Snape. She led him up the stairs to Hogwarts Main Entrance Hall and then back down another flight of stairs.

“Come along, Longbottom,” she said and tugged at his sleeve again. “Say, what’s your first name, again?”

“Oh, N-Neville. I’m Neville. Isn’t the Hospital Wing up-upstairs?” he nervously asked her.

“Why yes it is, Neville, but this will be much more fun,” she said with a smile.

Morgana stopped at large picture of a bowl of fruit. She reached up high above her head and tickled the pear. This revealed a hidden doorknob which she turned and opened the painting like a door.

“Come on,” she said as she entered the room behind the painting. Inside Neville saw an enormous kitchen with dozens of house elves scurrying about preparing what looked like another delicious dinner. Neville’s stomach growled despite the painful boils still covering his face and appendages.

Morgana led him to the end of one of the five long tables in the kitchen and motioned for him to sit. She pulled out a phial with a dropper. Neville looked at the girl sitting across from him. She was lovely, probably the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in person. Her eyes were striking. They were as black as her father’s but unlike his they were not in the least bit frightening or intimidating.

“All right, which ones do you want me to start with?” she asked him.

“Huh?” Neville wasn’t quite sure what she’d just said.

Morgana chuckled at the befuddled boy. He was a walking disaster, this one. Poor boy. “I’ll get rid of the boils on your face, first, is that all right?”

“Yes, pl-please, I mean, thank you,” he stammered.

As she went to work on his injuries a little female elf popped up right next to them making Neville jump.

“Oh, hello there, Nanny!” exclaimed Morgana. “This is my new friend, Neville, he just had his first Potions lesson. It did not go well. I thought maybe we could have a cup of tea and maybe a sandwich?”

“Yes! Yes! Nanny will get the tea and the cake and the sandwiches and the biscuits…” said the elf as she quickly shuffled away.

“Thank you, Nanny!” Morgana called after her. “Nanny was one of my babysitters for years. She still looks after me, sometimes. Hold still, just one more on your chin.”

Morgana lightly took Neville’s hand in hers and started vanishing the boils that covered his hands and forearms.

“Wow! You really got drenched, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, uh, um, yeah,” Neville said. He was so embarrassed. What would Gran think?

“You’re not the first wizard to make that mistake, you know. The first things you should remember about Potions is that you must read the directions twice and then go slowly and always be precise in your measurements.”

“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that,” said Neville. He was having a very hard time adjusting to Hogwarts. He missed being at home with Gran and at least there he could hide in his room or disappear in the woods behind the house. He was scared all the time here at school and there was so much to remember.

Morgana felt very badly for this boy. He had these sad brown eyes and looked like he was going to cry. He was the kind of boy who just looked like a target for bullies – chubby, soft, clumsy and scared – a bad combination. He needed some compassion and some confidence.

Her father had told her about being bullied, how anyone could get mobbed. It didn’t matter how beautiful or ugly you were, you had to be vigilant and in control. Da was always in control – at least it seemed that way to her. He had told her about how he had been awkward and skinny and spotty as a student. (Poor Daddy – she’d seen the pictures) He had learned the hard way how to protect himself and how to go it alone if need be. But she also saw how brilliant her father was, he had started out a twitchy disaster and now there wasn’t a wizard with a brain that would cross him. Maybe this weepy mess of a boy could grow up to be an excellent wizard as well – it was entirely possible.

“So, Neville, what do you do for fun? Do you have any hobbies?” she started with the standard small talk all of Dad’s acquaintances asked her when they met her for the first time.

They went back and forth. He liked to play outside in the garden and in the woods. He had an enormous model train collection – a magical one with its very own Hogwarts Express. He liked listening to the wireless with his Gran.

She loved to read. She could play piano and even had private lessons from a real Muggle piano teacher every summer holiday. She also loved television, but Neville had never heard of that.

“Oh! It’s amazing! I only ever get to watch it during holidays because we can’t get it here at Hogwarts or even in Hogsmeade. They have absolutely everything on television: news, comedies, dramas, music, football, cartoons…” she went on.

“What’s cartoons?” he asked.

“Oh, you purebloods don’t know what you’re missing! Cartoons are brilliant! Well, they are more for younger kids, but I still like them. They are like drawings that move, like in a Wizard comic, but with sound and music. Disney makes the some of the best like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and Little Mermaid.”

“Disney?” Neville didn’t know what she was talking about. He knew Muggles had all kinds of things that the Wizarding World didn’t, but he didn’t know there was so much he didn’t know. Dean Thomas was a Muggleborn maybe he’d heard of Disney.

The children had some of the tea and food that Nanny had brought them (too much for either of them to finish). Morgana hugged the little old elf. Neville had never seen a witch or wizard ever hug an elf before. Neville wasn’t even allowed to even see the elves they had in their house. “Neither seen, nor heard in this house,” Gran would say. “A proper elf in a proper wizard home knows how to keep house and never let you know they even exist.” Neville knew they were there, he’d caught a glimpse of them now and again, setting the table for family dinners, but he’d never spoken to any of them let alone hugged one of them.

It was nearly five o’clock when Morgana said she had to leave to go back to the rooms she shared with her father. Neville felt a pang of disappointment. This was the only actual fun he’d had since getting here. Morgana escorted him to the staircases leading up to Gryffindor Tower and bid him farewell.

She was also curiously disappointed about having to leave. She’d only brought him to the kitchens to cheer up the boy that would most likely be her father’s worst Potions student. But Neville was sweet and good-natured and would be a nice addition to her roster of favorite Gryffindors. Neville wasn’t nearly as cute as the Weasley twins or Harry Potter, but he’d be good company for teatime.

Neville looked down from the second floor landing and watched Morgana skip across the Entrance Hall towards the Dungeon staircase. His stomach did a flip just watching her go. He didn’t quite understand why, but he was fairly certain he’d just developed a crush on the Potions Master’s daughter. He actually was looking forward to the next Potions lesson just so he could see her again.

Fortunately and unfortunately for Neville he didn’t have to wait that long to see her again. It was less than a week later when he found himself laid up in the Hospital Wing after falling off his broom during his first flying lesson. He was waiting for Madame Pomfrey to mend his broken wrist and he just couldn’t stop crying. It hurt, it was humiliating, why couldn’t he just go home?

“Oh, poor dear! It’s all right, just let me mend that break quickly,” she said as he felt his wrist snap back into place and an uncomfortable warmth radiate throughout his arm.

He still couldn’t stop crying. He wasn’t loud about it, but he just couldn’t keep the tears at bay.

The Mediwitch rummaged through her potions cabinet and pulled out two bottles. One was marked Skelegrow and the other was unlabelled and apparently empty.

She quickly went to the fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder into it.

“Severus?” she asked.

“Yes?” came the Professor’s voice. He sounded slightly annoyed.

“Severus, I’m out of Calming Draught do you have some prepared yet?”

“Certainly, I will send Morgana through will the entire batch,” he replied.

“Oh yes! Thank you!” Madame Pomfrey sounded pleased. Once Morgana materialized through the fireplace, Neville noticed them whispering a bit. 

“Mr. Longbottom? Morgana says she a friend of yours, she’ll sit with you until you are well enough to go back to your house,” said Pomfrey. She led Morgana to Neville’s bedside. “Now, Miss Snape, make sure he has two tablespoonfuls of the Skelegrow and a full phial of this Calming Draught. But first – tell me why.”

Morgana looked thoughtfully at the bottles. “He had a broken wrist, but he still needs a small dose of Skelegrow because he is only eleven and is still growing. The Calming Draught is because of the trauma of his injury and it will help him relax.”

“Very good! I’d give you points, but you don’t have a house yet,” chuckled the witch as she walked off to return to her office.

Morgana pulled a chair close to Neville’s bedside. “You’ve had a rough time of it again today, haven’t you?”

Neville nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. He was afraid he’d start crying again.

“So which do you prefer – Droobles or Chocolate Frogs?” she asked holding out both candies.

“Um, Chocolate Frogs?”

Morgana handed him the wrapped chocolate candy. “Good choice. I’m going to have you take your Skelegrow first because it is the nastiest tasting liquid I’ve ever had to gag down. Then once you’ve choked it down, eat the frog as fast as you can to get that taste out of your mouth, and then take the Calming Draught, which tastes rather sweet. It’s good.”

“What did you break?” Neville asked wanting to feel less awkward.

“I slipped down a full flight of stairs in the Dungeon and cracked my pelvis. It was a horrid experience all round. I’m lucky it wasn’t my neck. The Baron found me and told my father.”

“The Bl-Bloody Baron? He so scary!”

“Like I said, horrid experience,” she smirked. “Come on now, take this and get it over with.”

Neville tried his best, but the first tablespoonful of Skelegrow came up into the garbage can along with what was left of his lunch. Morgana was so kind to him, giving him water and wiping his face with a washcloth. She coaxed him to take two tablespoons at one time and hoped it wouldn’t come back up while she shoved a chocolate frog in his mouth. Neville was a good sport about it and chewed the chocolate vigorously trying to rid the foul taste from his mouth. She poured the calming draught in his mouth and he became positively serene after that.

She knew some of the side effects of this potion could mimic drunkenness especially in a child of his age. She vaguely remembered feeling all floaty when she had taken it year earlier. This was very interesting, she almost wanted to pull out her notebook and start documenting his behavior. Morgana called on Nanny once again to bring them some dinner in the hospital wing so that he could get something in his stomach before going back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You’re the nicest person I’ve met since I got here, you know?” he slurred a little.

“Oh, that’s sweet, Neville. You need to eat now,” she put a fork in his hand. Morgana thought this was all rather amusing. Neville didn’t look like the kind of boy who ever needed to be told to eat. She poured him a cup of tea and then added two sugar cubes and enough milk to cool it off.

“You remembered how I take my tea?” he said with equal parts surprise and gratitude. “You’re lovely!” he exclaimed.

Morgana felt her face blush slightly, which was funny because she only ever blushed for Bill Weasley.

They had their dinner while Morgana talked about how Olivier Wood had accidentally set his Potions partner’s ponytail on fire at the last lesson. She talked about how she could hardly wait for next year to get here so she could officially start her magical education. Neville thought how nice it would be if she were sorted into Gryffindor, but he knew that she would most likely be in Slytherin.

When they were finished Morgana walked Neville back to the staircase that led up to Gryffindor Tower (poor bloke was still getting lost). He looked apprehensive about leaving. She could tell that he was embarrassed to face his fellow housemates.

“Neville? I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone, ever.”

“Sure, I promise,” he replied. He was rather intrigued now.

“My dad fell off his broom at his first flying lesson as well. He didn’t break any bones, but he did say his bottom was bruised purple. He could barely sit down for an entire week!” she whispered quietly to him. “But you must never mention it or else.”

“Or else what?” Neville asked with wide-eyed fear.

“Or else, I won’t ever tell you another secret,” she giggled and skipped away down the corridor.

“She remembered how I take my tea,” he mumbled.

“What’s that, dear? I need the password to open the portrait hole,” said the Fat Lady.

“Oh! Um, um,” stuttered Neville.

He’d forgotten the new password. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
